Ever After
by Ochiba Konpeki
Summary: Do you believe in Happily Ever Afters? K2, gift for start.to.rawr. Inspired in part by Plinkoid's Law 22 33 101.


_I was gonna wait until Friday, but I can't!_

_Inspired by my love of The Velveteen Rabbit and a game me and one of my friends play, RQT. (Random Question Time) I don't own South Park or any of the mentioned fairy tales._

**Ever After**

The window is left unlocked. I always leave it unlocked for you, though I doubt the lock would be much of an obstacle. You're quite the lock pick. I still can't get over how graceful you look, even tumbling through my window at eleven-thirty at night. We're both insomniacs, so it didn't particularly matter that we were both missing well-deserved sleep.

The first thing to go is that horrible military-style jacket of yours. To this day I can't tell what color it is. Brown? Grey? Green? It's not even that it's dirty, it's just a weird color. But you know I hate it, so it goes in the corner, like it has almost every night the last two years. The next thing to go is the fluorescent orange hoodie, the one Tweek gave to you because 'the gnomes don't like it'. It lands haphazardly on top of the jacket, the so-called Sexy Jacket. Was it really seventh grade when we named it the Sexy Jacket? Has it been so long?

After the hoodie are the shoes. Then the hairband, then the socks. You empty your pockets and finally, your mask, your faux smile slips away to be replaced by a real one as you finally look up at me, sitting crossed-legged on the bed. You run a hand through your over-long hair, and I smile at the big wave halfway through where the band has been holding your hair back all day.

You're so pretty, in a wild sort of way. Like a fox. Like always, you slink forward, tenseness leaving your shoulders as you visibly relax. You have no qualms about climbing onto my bed, taking up the place you always do, right across from me with out knees just barely touching. I don't know why we still bother to sit so far away from each other at the beginning anymore. I guess we're just pretending not to notice how we get steadily closer throughout the night. I skip formalities, going right to the game we always play, the game that started these meetings. RQT.

"What animal would you mostly closely relate to each of us?" You already knew I meant us four, not just you and I. You raise your eyes to the ceiling, considering your answer. We take the game very seriously. We always answer completely truthfully. "Stan is like a wolf." you murmur, fixing those startlingly blue eyes on me, so many shades of blue. Azure, ultramarine, turquoise, ceil, sapphire, cerulean, cobalt, all those other over-romanticizations of hues of blue. "Eric is like a bear." you continue just as quietly. I nod in agreement.

"I'm like a bird." you observe, looking down at yourself as if the answer is written somewhere on your form. You look at me again, mirth pinching the corner of your eyes, and finish teasingly, "And you're like a kitten."

I only roll my eyes at the insult. "I would say you're a fox." I combat, looking for a debate. I don't get one, however, just a cheesy wink and a, "I think you're quite the pretty little vixen yourself."

I blush just a little bit. I don't like to be complimented, even by you. You smile, taking my hand in yours. It's a familiar contact, but I still marvel at how your hand encompasses mine, how your nimble fingers trap mine in their grasp. Suddenly, I feel wanted. This is why we're here. Friendship, support. I don't mind that you're breaking our silence when you speak. "What's your favorite fruit?"

I don't hesitate to answer. "Strawberries. You?"

You get a slightly far away expression, and I suddenly remember you teaching me how to eat cherries without getting blood red juice all down my arm. I remember you laughing at me as you pop a cherry in your mouth, stem and all, and a few moments later spitting out a fruit-less, clean seed and offering me a cherry stem with several knots in it. "Black cherries." I answer for you, and you nod enthusiastically, smiling.

The night carries on, and eventually we end up in the same position we always do. You lay on your back, under the covers with me tucked under your arm, halfway laying on your chest. We continue to go back and forth with our questions as you stroke my hair, covering topics ranging from politics to sexuality to our pasts to our beliefs. Nothing is off limits. Not your parents, not my religion, not your nasty habit of dying, not my brother's weird 'relationship' with Red Goth and Kindergoth... Everything is fair game. We are manatees.

Sometimes we talk about personal things. There are too types of personal things in my opinion-private things and intimate things. Sometime we talk about class. Sometimes we talk about our peers. Sometimes we talk about literature, or at least the little you bother to read. We've been on the topic of childhood for fifteen minutes now. Finally, I ask out of nowhere, "What was your favorite fairy tale growing up?"

Your hand stills in my unruly hair. I look up a little to see you smiling, mouthing the words to a story I can't decipher. "The Velveteen Rabbit." you answer finally. I frown, having never heard of such a story. Before I can ask, though, you murmur curiously, "What about you?"

My smile turns sad. "I can't quite remember it. I think it may have been called the Skeleton Key. The Broom Key? The Broom Closet? It's been so many years since we lost the book it was in... I think it was about a little girl who moved into an old house, and there was a skeleton key... And a crow. A raven? And a king locked in a broom closet. A kingdom? Three kings? I can't remember how it ends..." I trail off, lost in thought. We lay in silence for a long time. I start to think that maybe you have fallen asleep when you murmur hesitantly, "Kyle?"

I smile into your chest, answering just as quietly, "Yes, Kenny?"

"If I were to bring you my book of fairy tales... Would you read them to me?"

I blink into the dark of my room, having not expected the request. It was rather strange, really. But I feel you tense and quickly reassure you, "Of course."

OoO

The next night, you bring an obviously well-loved treasury of fairy tales. There are sixteen stories in all. For the next sixteen nights, I read you a new story. Sixteen happy endings.

_"No longer a beast in either body or spirit, the Prince loved Beauty with all his heart and they lived happily ever after."_

("If I wrote it, he would stay a beast." you murmured thoughtfully. I smiled at you. "Why?" You just smiled.)

_"Soon after, the Prince and Rapunzel were married in a splendid ceremony. They took Rapunzel's parents with them to live in the King's castle, far, far away, where they lived happily ever after."_

("Why didn't she escape on her own, using her hair as rope?")

_"Aladdin and the beautiful Lylah lived happily ever after that. They raised a large family, and the favorite playmates of their many children were several generations of mongoose-the offspring of the faithful Amir!"_

(You were too tired to say anything thoughtful.)

_"Rosamond and Evan were wed soon after, and the young couple departed for the Prince's homeland, where they lived happily ever after."_

("Happily ever after..." you muttered pensively.)

_"In a few days' time, the Prince and Cinderella were married in a magnificent palace ceremony, the likes of which the kingdom had not seen for many a year. The young couple lived happily ever after."_

("Cinderella always reminds me of my mom... Just without the happily ever after." You refused to elaborate.)

_"The King, the Queen, and all the royal court were so happy that they sang and danced into the night and did not get into bed until well after dawn. The Prince and the Princess lived long and happily."_

("How vain could one person possibly be..?")

_"She always remained true to Will, as did the Steadfast Tin Soldier to her, and they lived happily ever after."_

("I'll be your soldier if you'll be my paper maiden." I searched for the teasing in your eyes but found none. I shivered and asked you what your favorite animal was to change the subject.)

_"The couple then soared up into the cloudless blue sky where, flying in ever-widening circles, the loyal swallow waited patiently. They lived happily ever after, of course."_

("Of course...")

_"Then, with a blissfully tearful farewell, the couple departed for Roland's native country. There, his parents, the King and Queen of that land, made then welcome, and they lived happily ever after."_

("What a bitch!" You were in a bad mood that night.)

_"And so Geppetto and Pinocchio-who had learned the meaning of humanity-lived happily ever as father and son."_

("I've always hated Pinocchio." you informed me cheerfully. I wondered why you didn't have me skip it.)

_"And so it was that Pardonius, with the boy's help, came to be known as the wisest of emperors, and eventually lived happily ever after."_

("No! The boy was wise, not the emperor." you protested sleepily.)

_"The wedding was held on the deck of the ship as the Sea King, Grandmother, Melody's sisters, and all her other sea friends looked on. The ship sailed over the horizon into the setting sun, bound for exotic lands, where they lived happily ever after."_

("I wanna be a mermaid." you murmured, snapping your legs together as though they may turn to fins. I rose an eyebrow at you and you quickly corrected, "Merman.")

_"And Mowgli went to live in the village with Man, and though he lived happily ever after, he never forgot his home in the Jungle."_

("I would have stayed with the wolves." you whispered. "What about you?" I didn't respond.)

_"Micheal smiled at the two sets of twins. He smiled at the two sets if triplets, and he smiled at the youngest, the pretty Alicia. Then he chose Aurora for his wife. They were wed on the spot and lived happily ever after."_

("Kyle..." you sighed. "I wish love were easy like that." You leaned up to kiss me on the nose, smiling at my blush. I sighed, pressing my face into your hand as I agreed, "So do I...")

_"And despite parting ways, Peter Pan and Tinkerbelle and John and Michael and the lost boys but most importantly Wendy lived happily ever after."_

("Kyle, do you believe in happily ever afters?" you asked me. I didn't answer, choosing instead to silently admire your beauty, the intelligence in those beautiful, romanticized blue eyes, the childish openness of your face. So unlike the young man people see outside this bedroom, so vulnerable without all your shields sitting in the corner.)

Finally, the sixteenth night came, the day we are to read the Velveteen Rabbit. You're so excited you practically fall through my window, ripping off your defenses and immediately curling around behind me where I sit, pressing your stomach to my lower back and acting almost like a chair, your chest and arms on one side of me and your thighs on the other. I feel very safe and loved as I crack open the book shoved into my lap at your insistence. At the last moment, though, I lean over and withdraw a wide and tall but thin new book-the original Velveteen Rabbit. You practically squeal, begging me to start reading.

Of course, The Velveteen Rabbit is much too long to tell you, the reader, right now. However, I will tell you, the reader, the gist.

A little boy, Jon, received a velveteen rabbit for Christmas, which he adored. The rabbit had very few friends in the boy's room apart from the Rocking Horse, a wise old toy who tells the rabbit one day, "I am very nearly real. You can be real, too, if Jon loves you enough. When he has loved you so much that patches of your fur are worn off and you have become faded and shabby, then you may be real, too."

Eventually, though, the velveteen rabbit laid forgotten, the horse was loved so much that he became real and jumped out the window.

One night, Jon was antsy and couldn't sleep. Eventually, his mother got sick of it and gave him the velveteen rabbit to help him sleep, and from then on, the velveteen rabbit slept with the boy, wondering if he would ever become real.

So time past and the rabbit became shabby and old, falling apart at the seams, but the boy loved him dearly. "He's real!" the boy insisted.

Eventually, the boy became ill, so ill that the rabbit could only watch as the boy was too weak to play with him. Strange people came and went and when the velveteen rabbit was laid next to the boy, his skin was hot.

But eventually, the boy got better, and a doctor came in to survey the room, instructing the parents on how to disinfect it. Eventually, though, he noticed the velveteen rabbit. He called it a mass of germs and demanded it was trashed.

The rabbit was devastated. He was real, wasn't he? But he was still thrown out like a broken doll, left to lay on the rubbish heap and decay. He became so sad a tear ran down his worn velveteen face.

The tear glowed and grew into a bright, beautiful fairy, who told the rabbit, "Little Rabbit, I am the Nursery Fairy! I have come to make you real!"

"But I am real." whispered the velveteen rabbit.

"You were real to Jon because he loved you so much. Now, because you have been so kind to the boy and because you have wept, I will make you truly real!"

The fairy carried the velveteen rabbit into the forest, where he became real and lived happily ever after with the other real rabbits.

And then, at the end... Perhaps I'll merely show you, the reader.

You look so star struck, gazing up at me as I read the last pages of the children's book. _"Autumn passed and Winter, and in the Spring, when the days grew warm and sunny, the Boy went out to play in the wood behind the house. And while he was playing, two rabbits crept out from the bracken and peeped at him. One of them was brown all over, but the other had strange markings under his fur, as though long ago he had been spotted, and the spots still showed through. And about his little soft nose and his round black eyes there was something familiar, so that the Boy thought to himself, -"_

You interrupt me here to recite from memory, _""Why, he looks just like my old Bunny that was lost when I had scarlet fever!""_

We smile at each other as I quietly finish, voice soft and warm,_ "But he never knew that it really was his own Bunny, come back to look at the child who had first helped him to be Real."_

Slowly, I close the book, ad-libbing in a whisper, "And they lived happily ever after."

Not more than a moment or two of silence passes before you sit up, crossing your legs and tugging me into your lap. The book falls to the sheets and I keep my eyes on it as you cradle me. One of your hands your rest on my cheek, gently tilting my face up to yours. You smile and I blush, mentally agonizing about the proximity of our faces. "Kyle." you sigh contentedly, "I love you."

I figure you mean it in the way you love Karen and your mother and Stan, even if somewhere in my chest I want you to love me in a romantic way, so I return automatically, wrapping my arms around your neck in a pseudo-hug, "I love you, too, Kenny."

"No," you protest. I frown as your arms tighten around me, the long digits cupping my face tensing. Your eyes look sad and darker than usual. "No, Ky, that's not what I meant... Kyle, do you believe in happily ever afters?"

I stare at you for a moment, my heart in my throat yet somehow still banging violently against my ribs. "Happily ever afters don't exist." I murmur, watching your face fall. Slowly, I elaborate, "It's impossible to be happy forever... What would be the point of that? If you were always happy you could never appreciate joy."

You nod slowly, agreeing, and ask, "What about love at first sight?"

I don't hesitate to answer scathingly, "Love at first sight is as ridiculous as sparkling vampires."

You chuckle. "Fine, what about true love?"

"Of course true love exists. Even if love is just a flux of chemicals in the brain."

You give me a weird look and start laughing. I don't understand what's so funny, so I just watch, waiting for you to finish so I can ask, but I never get the chance. The moment you've gotten yourself sufficiently under control, you press your lips gently to mine, holding them there for a long moment before pulling back to watch me anxiously.

I blink at you owlishly, absently bringing up a hand to touch my lips. Somewhere in the back of my head, I'm celebrating my first kiss. You press your lips to my forehead and then my cheek and repeat in a murmur, "I love you."

I turn my head to the side to connect our lips again, delighting in the smile I feel against my mouth. "I love you too." And I mean it.

We won't get a happily ever after. But in this particular moment, we are happy, and I know we will be happy in countless moments to come. I love you, Kenny McCormick, and I want to spend every moment with you, the happy moments, the melancholy moments, the angry moments, the quiet moments. Let's spin an ever after, even if it isn't always happy.

OoO

_**PLEASE READ!**_

_So, in all seriousness, does anybody know anything about the fairy tale Kyle described at the beginning? If you can tell me the name, the author, a link to the story, anything, I will be in debt to you forever. Seriously._

_**QUESTIONS, COMMENTS, CONCERNS? REVIEW!**_


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